REVIEW: American Rust - Philipp Meyer (2009)

(www.randomhouse.com and
 philippmeyer.net)

Set in the impoverished coal country of contemporary Pennsylvania, ‘American Rust’, Philipp Meyer's debut novel, is the story of Isaac English and Billy Poe whose lives spiral out of control when they get caught up in a murder. Friendship and self-preservation become juxtaposed as both young men need to come to terms with the end of their adolescence. 

As with Steinbeck’s ‘The Grapes of Wrath’. ‘American Rust’ is set in a period of economic depression. Like the Oklahoma ‘refugees’ in ‘The Grapes of Wrath’, the inhabitants of this Pennsylvania valley, the heart of the American steel industry, were never rich, but also they were never poor. But now steel has moved overseas and the new Great Depression has pulled the rug out from under the American Dream and the landscape is left with rusting and rotting factories and people, normal hard-working folks, are left without the power to make ends meet. Poverty, boredom, idleness - and crime set in, transforming Bud Harris’, the town's sheriff, once quiet easy-to-police community into one with big-city-problems. 

It is against this background that Meyer with a beautiful lyrical voice paints his story that pulls you in from the beginning and doesn’t let you go till the final page. The story centres on unconditional love between friends, between family. Love against odds. Unrequited love. The deep friendship between Isaac and Billy; The complicated relationship of Billy’s mother, Grace, with the town’s sheriff Bud Harris; The loss of Isaac’s mother, the illness of his father, the absence of his sister. All these relationships form the backbone of this story. And while, hopefully, most of us will never be as near to a murder tragedy as Isaac and Billy are, we can all relate to their humanity and its dilemmas. 

This is the best recent novel I have read in 2010. If you like Cormac McCarthy, John Steinbeck, Jack Kerouac, William Faulkner; if you like films like the Deer Hunter (set in the same area) and Deliverance - You need to read this novel.

Let me know what you think of it.

Joran C.A. Monteiro © 2010

Review: 'Light Boxes' by Shane Jones (2009)

(www.penguin.com)

Light Boxes is a mesmerizing parable about a village fighting the continuing onslaught of an everlasting winter instigated by February.  The story centers on the family of Thaddeus, whose young daughter Bianca is taken, early in the book, by February. Thaddeus leads the resistance against February, helped by a cast of original yet recognizable characters.  Bianca, in the mean time, witnesses the innocent ignorance and confused anger of February.                                                                                                                                    

Jones weaves you into a paralel universe that perhaps is not so different from ours. The book is written in a sparse style bordering on the poetic. Jones also plays with the visual presentation of the page, emphasizing emotion with font size and isolation of words.

This book will help you Northern Hemispherians through winter and us Southern Hemispherians should read it so we appreciate summer even more.  The book was originally self-published with a print of only 500 copies but has now been picked up by Penguin, selling thousands. In the top 5 of the best books I've read in 2010.

Let me know what you think of it.

Joran C.A. Monteiro © 2010

Short Story published in Blue Crow Magazine #2

Hi All,


A short story I wrote, 'On the Seventh Day He Woke', the first short story I ever wrote featuring Sam H. Bound, has been published in Blue Crow Magazine #2. 


The magazine is 'print on demand' and can be ordered from the website here. A printed copy of the magazine is US$15 + postage, or US$5 in E-book format. With the way the US$ is going that really isn't that much for a 300 page book chockfull of short stories, drawings, pictures, reviews, and more short stories.


You can find Blue Crow Magazine on Facebook here and don't forget you can find Blues Fiction there too!


Thank you all for your support.
Onward Ever!


Joran

REVIEW: 'Growth of the Soil' by Knut Hamsun, 1917

Hamsun won the Nobel Prize for Literature for this book in 1920 and one can see why. With an astounding sparseness of language Hamsun manages to tell the story of the birth of a district in northern Norway, starting with the arrival of the first settler. If you thought you would never be able to relate to early 20th century farmers in remote Norway, think again. You will know these characters, and love them for all their humanity. Hamsun influenced Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Fante, Bukowski and countless others with this book. You should read it too.

Joran C.A. Monteiro

Short story published on Queen Vic Knives

Hi All,

A short story I wrote, 'No-one ever heard the shot', has been published on Queen Vic Knives.

Check it here. Make sure to also check the other posts on this Melbourne online lit. mag! Some choice poetry and fiction to be enjoyed!

And remember to share this with others!

Onward ever,

Joran

Blues Fiction archived online by National Library of Australia

Hi All,

This blog has now been archived by the National Library of Australia's PANDORA program. See the email and links below.

The blog will now regularly be digitally archived by the NLA. You can find the archived blog here

My first poetry collection 'The Monkey Shits in Its Hand' has now been added to the Monash University Library collection here

"Dear Joran

 

...

 

I am delighted to inform you that your publication is now publicly available in the PANDORA Archive at http://nla.gov.au/nla.arc-119730

 

Access to your publication in the Archive is facilitated in two ways: via the Library’s online catalogue; and via subject and title lists maintained on the PANDORA home page http://pandora.nla.gov.au/index.html.

...

Web Archiving Section

National Library of Australia"

Very Cool stuff. Needless to say, I am quite proud. It is nice to be able to search on your name in a library catalogue and have the search actually come up with stuff.

Onward ever.

Cheers,

Joran

New poetry - June 2010

As promised - more poetry for this blog - 3 new poems I wrote this June

Peaking for Books

Tart-stifled, drum-faced, and hog-breathed

girl asking for book eyes unable to center

tongue double in her mouth

sheer struggle to stand

and in the distance I hear a mammoth trumpet

as she opens her teeth in brilliance and wobbles her head bird-like

'I am going clubbing but on the way I want to buy a book'

the strength of her breath like brain-thinner

as her eyes roll back and she shivers 

a titter 

then she disappears

There is a weird moon out tonight

some red light slivering in through the window

the open door

the mouths of browsers

the eyes of city harlots

corners of mouths up-turned in cruel happy thoughts

songs sung in too early drunkenness

late-night binges at their very onset

hats worn askew

skirts drawn short

spirits short-circuiting and nostrils flaring

deep into

that weird moon shining tonight

A sagging recollection of last night

A crust-riddled mental case asked

for the swamp-thing

an anthology of

the scene dragging on

and I can see every detail of the man

as if I’ve taken acid

blood on his hands

real, not figurative

tiny wounds self-scratched

coating him in himself

his eyeballs sit on his cheeks

doming at me, white and moonlike

     pin-prick pupils caused by meds not taken

an arrow of a tongue licking

black-encrusted pencil-lips

I have no solution

no salvation

a field-day of weirdness

    poured into this.

---------------------------------------------------------

Sharks are bald

perhaps a feeling sliding toward the shore

into the water

cold on the soul the girl cuts my hair

bald now I float on my back

my clothes are light

my body heavy

I release my breath and it turns into a cloud

green and purple

a lightning bolt smelling of orange juice hits the water

and a shark 

fried by a million volts

jumps into the air

and lands sizzling

next to me

he takes of his hat in greeting

and tells me

'never let her cut your hair'

and I look at the shark and say

'sharks can't talk'

he growls and grumbles and responds

'remember Samson'

I do remember Samson

an asses' jaw 

thousands of Philistines

lions and 

the rest

a real old testament Hercules

But what does that matter

as I am floating here

on my back and bald

from now on I will ignore fried sharks

and open up my belly to her

and not worry about lightning striking me

-----------------------------------------------------------------

The mind is fogged

The mind is fogged after hours deprivation of sleep  

I render reality through a teacup

a feeling that it might revamp me

The birds outside sing as normal

and the world did not change so much

The mind is fogged with hours of thoughts

The mind is fogged

I have not had cotton candy for years

a missing element

in the sanity/insanity cycle

The mind is fogged through reading others 

who don’t know what it is that it is

that moves 

me and

you

The shame of immovability

the shame of inproductivity

the shame of shame

the fogged mind cares so much

I run straight for the wall

blank numb hit white stars

the nugget bounces

and finally a clear thought

sets sail

Copyright 2010 Joran C.A. Monteiro